Carthage Burning
by Nell Vance
Summary: Carlisle has twenty-four hours to save Edward from an untimely execution. Unfortunately for him, the Volturi are feeling less than forgiving. AU of New Moon.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **This is an AU rewrite of Edward's encounter with the Volturi in New Moon. This story starts in medias res, so the beginning might be a tad bit confusing. If you have a spare moment, please leave a review. I would absolutely love to hear from you.

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Stephanie Meyer's work.

**Summary: **Carlisle has twenty-four hours to save Edward from an untimely execution. Unfortunately for him, the Volturi are feeling less than forgiving. AU of New Moon.

**Carthage Burning**

**Prologue**

_And if you find your Ilium_

_And if you build your Troy_

_I hope you feel the pain I felt_

_T__wice upon your sword _

_From "Dido's Reply" by Cruxshadows_

The bells of Volterra sing when Jane brings the captives to the tower.

Sulpicia listens to the tintinnabulations, her tongue flicking out to taste the air. She smells the human at once, followed by Alice, the Cassandra of the New World.

But it is Edward's appearance that thrills her the most. The sacrificial lamb. The key to Carlisle's heart.

He meets her gaze as he steps into the atrium. His eyes are fierce. Shadows of gold sunken in a marble skull. She thinks of him as _David, _as that towering gloryso carefully crafted by Michelangelo's hands.

But he is weaker than stone and bleeds regret onto the tower floor.

Sulpicia smiles.

She knows his agony, his distinct torment. It is more effective than anything Jane could inflict. A poison. The succulent venom of an asp delivered to a broken breast.

Love. This Edward Cullen is in love with a human.

She watches as Aro envelopes their guests with one gracious sweep of his arms. "Welcome, dear friends," he says, his voice mingling with the bells, a pleasant tenor amongst baritones. "I had so hoped you would return to us. Sulpicia, darling, come greet young Edward."

She raises a brow at her husband, secretly delighting in his games. The clever cat cornering the witless mouse. How charming!

Sulpicia obliges him, pacing forward to embrace Edward. She clutches at his arms and delivers a polite kiss on either cheek. "We were most disturbed when you left us yesterday," she says.

Edward grimaces.

"And Alice and Bella too!" Aro sings. "This is a happy surprise!"

Sulpicia finds the human Bella cowering behind Edward. She is a slight, inconspicuous thing. The faint scent of her blood perfumes the chamber. Alluring, but not overpowering.

Sulpicia returns to her husband's side and brushes her hand against his.

_A boring creature_, she tells him. _Entirely unremarkable._

Aro's mouth puckers, disguising his butcher's teeth.

She has amused him.

Caius and Marcus arrive with gentle Athenodora. Sulpicia hears their footsteps, the vibrations sending tiny shockwaves up through the soles of her feet. Marcus takes in the three visitors with his dead man's glance and retires to his chair. Caius does not spare them a look.

Athenodora alone seems anxious. Her nose wrinkles and twitches, her eyes finding Sulpicia.

_Must you?_ she seems to say.

Sulpicia will not answer her. She has decided. _Decided._

Aro is frowning now. "I am sorry for the circumstances. It seems there was an unfortunate occurrence in the Piazza this afternoon. Alice?"

The delicate pixie is standing still, her chin raised slightly in defiance. Sulpicia senses her fear. It strikes the air, wave upon cold wave. Alice's breathing becomes fluttery, hesitant.

"You're mistaken," she replies lightly.

Aro is too much of a gentleman to contradict her. Instead, he turns away, the hem of his robe sweeping the ground like a cobweb.

Sulpicia feels her impatience stirring.

"On the contrary," she says, her teeth closing with a decisive click. "It seems as though Edward has deliberately divulged our secrets to this human." She tosses her head at Bella, frustrated by the mortal's silence. The mute creature is like a sheep, emotionless, thoughtless.

But Bella surprises her when she steps forward. "They didn't tell me anything," she says. "I figured it out for myself."

Sulpicia realizes she's being challenged and it delights her. She wants to respond, but Caius steals her glory.

"We won't quibble over semantics. Aro," he addresses his colleague, "we have a liability on our hands."

Aro knows this. He also knows what he has promised Sulpicia.

Justice. _Satisfaction._

"There is also the matter of your attempted exposure," Aro tells Edward. "When we denied you your request yesterday, we had no idea that you would jeopardize our entire empire."

"Such disrespect," Sulpicia adds, looking to Caius for support.

But now the white-haired vampire is silent. Surprisingly, Marcus has roused himself from his stupor and is watching their captives.

"I agree with Sulpicia, Aro," he says, his voice raw and rough.

Fear touches Edward's face, his skin pulled taut over high cheekbones. "I apologize," he says. "It was not my intention-"

But Sulpicia touches Aro's hand, letting her thoughts spill into him.

_Please. Please, darling, you promised…you swore…_

Discreetly, Aro withdraws his hand from hers.

This is as much her decision as his.

"As you wish," he mutters. Glancing at Jane, he nods almost imperceptibly.

The witch-child is alight with exhilaration. With a cherub's smile, she trains her gaze on Edward.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note: **Since Meyer never revealed whether or not Sulpicia had a particular talent, I decided to give her one of my own: extra sensitive hearing. She also can "hear" or sense vibrations, similar to a snake.

If you have a spare moment, please leave a review. I would love to hear from you. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Stephanie Meyer's work.

**Chapter One**

Carlisle finds Esme in the kitchen, kneeling on the counter. She is painting the border between the cabinets and the ceiling, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, her face decorated with thumb-sized smudges of primer.

He watches her work for a moment, her graceful back slightly arched as she angles her brush just so. She's wearing one of Emmett's old t-shirts.

This is the peace he misses. The calm.

"It looks nice," he says, setting his briefcase down next to one of the new kitchen chairs they purchased two weeks ago from an antiques dealer. "I don't think you'll need that third coat after all."

Esme cranes her neck to look at him, a smile making her eyes wide and girlish. "I have enough paint left over," she replies, "so I might as well give it a go." A pause. "Any news from Alice?"

Carlisle slips out of his coat and digs his fingers into his tie, loosening it. The clock in the living room strikes 6 AM. He's just finished his night-shift at Ithaca's local E.R. and he can't remember being so worn down…so defeated.

Edward has gone to Italy. He wants to die. His son wants to die.

Carlisle crosses the kitchen, his sleek shoes crunching on the tarp. Early morning light threatens the window panes. He used to find hope in every new dawn. Promise. But the last of the night's mist has thickened, leaving the world grey.

Carlisle misses the certainty of light and dark. Black and white. He scolds himself now for not saving Edward himself. For not keeping Alice and Bella safe from the dangers of Volterra.

But perhaps he is a coward at heart.

_She_ would not make things easy for him if he returned to Volterra. And she is too clever for him to outwit. Once upon a time he thought her guile charming, but now it frightens him.

Sulpicia always moved in darkness.

Carlisle reaches into his pocket and fingers the stiff envelope. Five plane tickets to Italy.

He can hide no longer.

"Alice didn't call my cell," he tells his wife, accepting her into his arms as she climbs down off the counter. The feel of Esme's body against his gives Carlisle some hope. "Jasper said their flight touched down this afternoon. I'm sure-"

"What about Charlie?" Esme interrupts him. Her eyes flicker slightly with thought. "Has _he_ heard from Bella?"

Carlisle withholds a sigh. The situation is spiraling out of his control. First Edward gone, now Alice and Bella. He had advised Alice not to go to Volterra alone, knowing all too well what the Volturi were capable of…especially Sulpicia.

"I spoke with Charlie a few hours ago," he says. "He's frantic, of course and furious with Bella. But I told him she'd be fine…we'd look after her."

Esme frowns softly, the gentle lines around her mouth sloping downward. "You lied to him."

"I had to."

She presses her forehead to his shoulder, crushing the thin wrinkles out of his shirt. "We should have gone with Alice and Bella."

Carlisle recognizes the desperation in her voice and it troubles him. He wonders if this is how she looked when she lost her newborn son all those years ago. The threat of losing Edward now, along with Alice and Bella, must be just as terrible for her.

The winter had been unkind to his family…cruel, really. Leaving Forks after Jasper's accident with Bella had been a trial, although the Cullens had long since become accustomed to a semi-nomadic lifestyle. The sheer logistics of picking up one's life and settling across the Continent was harrowing, but not unfamiliar.

Carlisle was lucky enough to find work in Ithaca, along with a part-time teaching job at Cornell. By February, things had become manageable, though Edward's absence was more than noticeable.

In fact, it was tearing his family apart. He noticed the seams starting to fray even before Rosalie revealed Alice's devastating vision to her brother.

Carlisle squeezes his wife's arms lightly. "I already bought the plane tickets."

"Carlisle?" She squares her jaw and steps away from him, taking his measure.

And after nearly a century of marriage, he finds himself blushing under her gaze. "We have to be at the airport in three hours. Think you can manage that?"

Esme looks at him, her eyes filling with phantom tears. "But what of we're too late?"

"I'm willing to take that chance. Aren't you?"

His wife's resolve changes instantly. A cloud passing by on a windy day. She straightens her back and slants her hips, striking a pose that is both enigmatic and confident.

Carlisle feels a stirring in his chest. Sometimes, he thinks Esme is the bravest of all the creatures he has known, human and immortal. There is not a shred of pretense about her or distraction. Only pure honesty and assertion.

And he loves her for it.

"I'll get things together," she says, spinning away from him and moving towards the kitchen door.

But it is too late. Jasper is standing in front of her in a flash, his face a death mask.

Carlisle notices the cell phone in his shaking hands.

"It's Alice," Jasper blurts out. He glances at Carlisle, then at Esme, who touches his shoulder tentatively.

"Is she in Volterra?" Esme asks.

Jasper swallows hard, his gaze returning to Carlisle. The phone slips from his hands and skitters across the floor. "They have Bella and Edward," he says, the muscles in his face spasming slightly. "The Volturi are going to kill them."

It is then that Carlisle's heart freezes. Blindly, he reaches backward, his hand touching the counter, paint staining his lithe hands.

Understanding is a bitter thing and he wishes he were ignorant.

_Crimson kisses and hunting. Her smile was always treacherous._

So this, he thinks, is the price I must pay.

*****

Sometimes she is frightened. So very frightened.

It is a strange feeling, akin to the relentless surge of adrenaline and the giddy thrill of catching one's prey after a long, hard chase.

Sulpicia does not understand herself. She is not accustomed to weakness. To being selfish. And the uncertainty of it all threatens to drive her mad.

Perhaps she is mad. Perhaps she will turn to stone like poor Marcus and they will say that she deserves as little mercy as she has shown.

Sitting in the bath, the water pools around her legs, casting spirals of steam into her damp hair. She is listening to Verdi's _Libiamo ne'lieti calici_. It is a rather commonplace song, but amusing. And Sulpicia likes to be amused.

She runs the tips of her fingers over the water, breaking the surface tension, smelling the sweet essence she has rubbed into her skin. Roses. Summer roses.

_Aro_.

She knows he will find out. She almost wishes he would. Things would be easier that way…perhaps.

But it would break his heart if he knew she had lied to him. And not only lied…

She closes her eyes and listens to the voice of the throaty soprano. The music is sweeping, stirring.

___Tra voi tra voi saprò dividere il tempo mio giocondo._

Aro does not know why she was so insistent that Edward Cullen be punished.

Sulpicia thinks of love. She thinks of Edward Cullen, who has been locked in the dungeons to await his death. She thinks of the human Bella, who was loved by an immortal and will soon be drained of her heart's blood. And she thinks of Carlisle Cullen, who she had taught to hunt, back in the days when they hunted for kisses and not for the crimson elixir.

Sulpicia does not care if Edward Cullen lives or dies. She does not care if the human Bella returns to her world with knowledge of theirs. But she implores, yes, she implores every ancient goddess…

Venus. Juno. _Diana_

…to bring Carlisle Cullen to her. It is all she wants. All she has ever wanted.

And yet, she is confused. There can be no want in her life. No physical or emotional need that has not been satisfied.

Perhaps she is a glutton.

Sulpicia drops her head under the water and then surfaces. Aro approaches. She hears his footsteps murmur down the stone hallway. His heart is already whispering for her and Sulpicia stirs in the bath, roused by his desire.

Aro. Dear Aro.

He comes into the bath wearing a simple smile and his stately robes. The candlelight casts shadows across his face.

"Darling Sulpicia." Aro reaches out a ghostly hand and she takes it, allowing him to help her from the bath.

She stand before him, naked, the water running in smooth rivulets down her breasts.

"You let Alice go," she says, mimicking his smile.

Aro raises a black brow. "Are you disappointed? She committed no crime. Even Caius couldn't find cause to keep her imprisoned."

"She'll try to save her brother and the human."

"You are delightfully shrewd," he says, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it.

"A paradox," Sulpicia mutters. For the first time in centuries, she wishes he wouldn't touch her. Her thoughts are too precious to be read these days…and too dangerous.

And she could not bear to break his heart.

"I think I am wicked," she says, gently lifting her hand free from his grasp. "Was I ever kind? Was I ever gentle and thoughtful like sweet Athenodora?"

"Gods, no," Aro snorts. "And I wouldn't have it any other way!"

Sulpicia blushes. He is too good to her. "I have always had dark thoughts," she tells him.

"There are greater sins."

_Like adultery_. Her mind betrays her. She brushes some of the excess water off her arms. The candles hiss as several droplets hit their flames.

Her husband sighs. The tenor of his voice is delectable. Sulpicia watches his throat pulse as his vocal cords form the words.

"I expect some trouble after this is over. Edward Cullen is popular in North America. Respected. The Denali coven in particular will be vexed."

"Not to mention the Cullens themselves." Sulpicia tries to mirror his business-like tone. The seriousness of the matter steels her for what is to come. "But Edward _did_ attempt to expose himself…in the Palazzo dei Priori no less. What nerve!"

Her outrage encourages Aro, who presses his fingers to his lips. She recognizes his stance. He is thinking.

"I am more concerned about the human, Bella. She knows too much of us…and yet, I sense her potential."

Now she laughs. "Then I must be blind. She had no music about her."

"But I could not read her thoughts."

"Perhaps she has none?"

He joins her in laughter and their voices sound like a harpsichord, high and tinkling.

Aro reaches for her. Sulpicia lets him snake a hand around her waist. Their hips are crushed together and she feel his hardness, his desire.

_What have I done? _

He brings his face closer, his eyes suddenly gentle and longing.

She remembers why she loves him so. Her damp fingers comb through his hair.

"Aro." Sulpicia wants to cry. But he has never seen her weep…except for the day Carlisle left Volterra.

"I am cruel," she tells him, unable to control herself.

Aro's brow puckers slightly. "Never."

_Yes_, she thinks and kisses him.

His lips are warm and welcoming. She wonders why she ever strayed…

"Aro." She wants him now. More than anything.

He responds to her eagerness, ever the patient lover. His hands frame her hips, his touch feather light.

Sulpicia challenges him.

Teasingly, she opens her mouth against his neck and drags her sharp teeth along his ivory flesh.

His smile becomes roguish.

They make love in the empty bath, the candles weeping wax around them. Sulpicia tries to forget her darkness, to lose it in Aro from whom it has never been hidden.

_Until now_.

While they are leaving the bath, Renata finds them and tells Aro that Carlisle has called. He is on his way to Volterra.

And Sulpicia drops her husband's hand.

* * *

_Translation: _

_____Tra voi tra voi saprò dividere il tempo mio giocondo.-- __With you all, I can share my happiest times. _


End file.
